I find you in my bed
wrapped in your illness
sucking on my ribcage
cooing sweet little words
I pull back your wet hair
blood covering my stomach
all your suffering in portrait
valium, gauze and fitted parts
I should’ve met you before
the needle and the heart
alimentary love and loss
broken at birth
I should’ve met you before
when we were weeds
voices lost in caves
ideas without skin
My body shakes against yours
our jaws inflamed and locked
refusing memory and purpose
needed words won’t come
It’s poison that I give you
a mirror that we need
all that your blood reflects
the absurd and flowered ghost
